the aftermath of an analysis
Date: Mar 7th, 2007 7:45:35 pm - Subscribe
Mood: finished
The Shrinking Lonesome Sestina
Miller Williams
Somewhere in everyone's head something points toward home,
a dashboard's floating compass, turning all the time
to keep from turning. It doesn't matter how we come
to be wherever we are, someplace where nothing goes
the way it went once, where nothing holds fast
to where it belongs, or what you've risen or fallen to.
What the bubble always points to,
whether we notice it or not, is home
It may be true that if you move fast
everything fades away, that give time
and noise enough, every memory goes
into the blackness, and if new ones come
small, mole-like memories that come
to live in the furry dark--they, too,
curl up and die. But Carol goes
to high school now. John works at home
what days he can to spend some time
with Sue and the kids. He drives too fast
Ellen won't eat her breakfast.
Your sister was going to come
but didn't have the time.
Some mornings at one or two
or three I want you home
a lot, but then it goes.
It all goes
Hold on fast
to thoughts of home
when they come.
They're going to
less with time
Time
goes
too
fast.
Come
home.
Forgive me that. One time it wasn't fast.
A myth goes that when the quick years come
then you will, too. Me, I'll still be home.
Every good lie holds some truth. Miller Williams could have fabricated a fictional situation to express his idea of home, but there is at least a thin layer of truth under the skin of this poem. One could analyze it line for line; every word was crafted to communicate his message regardless of its factuality. What is important, though, is that we take his experiences, or imagination, and form our own opinion on the matter. An exceptionally effective poem plants that idea like a mustard seed waiting to burst inside your head. Pop!
The Shrinking Lonesome Sestina reveals to me the idea of love, or life: complicated. I see my Grandfather talking to my Grandmother while she lies in bed at the nursing home. I mean my cousin and uncle aren’t named Carol or John, but you get the idea. It’s a wise perspective of hope. An unwavering revelation that the easier years have come and gone, yet there’s a chance for redemption. The simplest part of the poem is the most revealing, “Time/goes/too/fast./Come/home,” it epitomizes the mood. Miller Williams definitely should have used this as the cornerstone of his poem, because if he didn’t he made his work a lot harder than it had to be.
The metaphor of the compass used in the first two stanzas is clever; home is due north. Our past memories and future experiences will all eventually lead us home, whether home is an actual place, idea, or afterlife is up for debate elsewhere. The point is that even if the, “small, mole-like memories that come/ to live in the furry dark,” eventually, “curl up and die.” home is the eternal idealistic atmosphere we’re all drawn to.
I guess I chose this particular poem because of it’s DEEP meaning...hehe. Honestly though, the conversational tone and structure of the poem are quite intriguing. I’ll admit I didn’t notice the poem actually shrank until the third or fourth read, but I caught on and it really enhanced the poem. The journey ends at the edge of a cliff, with more answers than questions. Williams would’ve wanted it this way because mustard seeds are accustomed to the cold.
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the start of an End
Date: Mar 7th, 2007 2:45:51 am - Subscribe
Mood: inquisitive
michelangelo said the eye is the window to the soul. he didn't believe in a higher being... that doesn't make him wrong or right it just makes him who he was... i want to know who i am
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